


show yourself (destroy our fears)

by EmAndFandems



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has PTSD (Good Omens), Eldritch Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Canon, fear and reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmAndFandems/pseuds/EmAndFandems
Summary: "Angel,"he breathes, and it has never been as apparent as in this instance. Fierce and frightening, furious and ferocious. "What’s happened?"
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 135
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #07 "Big Spooky Fan Me."





	show yourself (destroy our fears)

Crowley was a thing of tension getting into bed. Curled his whole body into a tight ball, locked his limbs, and squeezed his eyes shut. Now, though, he is asleep. Loose; sprawled out. Unguarded.

Unguarded. The word sets Aziraphale on edge, sets him to pacing the room. Then he wonders whether his movement might not wake Crowley, so he tiptoes downstairs instead, hands twisting in front of him, waiting— but for what, he dares not name.

_ Please let him be safe, _ he thinks; when he realizes this comes dangerously close to prayer, he slams the brakes on that line of thought and thinks instead,  _ I will keep him safe. _

The night passes like this, in incremental moments of bated breath. In the tremor of his fingertips. In the unsteadiness of a heartbeat. It is a night like all that have passed. It passes; he passes through it. The sunrise comes. Aziraphale watches as its light climbs through the bookshop windows, catches on the dust motes, sets the merchandise to glowing. Another night survived.

The door rattles. Aziraphale freezes.

“Open up,” someone says. Immediately, Aziraphale releases his wings. Seizes at a power deep within his core; prepares to do battle with forces ancient and eldritch.

**“You are not welcome here,”** he thunders, voice slipping past vocal registers and shaking the shelves. He is gathering light, pulling sunshine into his orbit, burning brightly enough to produce a hum.  **“You should not be here.”**

~

Crowley blinks. Something is not right. Something has woken him. Where is Aziraphale? Aziraphale should be here. When Crowley’s satisfied that Aziraphale is  _ not _ hiding in a shadowy corner, he stumbles downstairs. “Aziraphale?”

He turns the corner and is dumbfounded for a moment.

_ “Angel,” _ he breathes, and it has never been as apparent as in this instance. Fierce and frightening, furious and ferocious. “What’s happened?”

**“At the door— Outside— They—”**

“Hello?” says a terribly faint voice. “I’d like an encyclopedia?”

Crowley strides over to the door, throws it open despite Aziraphale’s noise of protest, and says, “Read the sign,  **we’re closed.”**

The would-be customer flees. Aziraphale remains rooted in place.

“It’s okay,” whispers Crowley. “You’re okay.”

No response.

Crowley steps forward and places a gentle hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Aziraphale… We’re okay.” And that does the trick. Aziraphale’s lower lip trembles and Crowley brings that haloed head to his chest as the tears begin to fall. Crowley’s uncertain, unused to being the one in this position. But he’ll learn, if it’s what they need.

He presses a kiss downward. “Morning,” he murmurs. “Why don’t you take a rest today, hm? Have a lie down. Tell me what’s wrong, if you like.”

Aziraphale sniffs and nods. If his fingers cling a little too desperately, if the press of them betrays a pulse too frantic—Crowley won’t mention it. Today is for cocoa and holding one another in the quietness of safety, and tomorrow, and again, until it becomes second nature. They have the rest of eternity to figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> And now for the sneaky edited-in-later note: Written for GTA 7, "Big spooky fan, me!" prompt. Posting date edited to after reveals. Title from Queen's "Innuendo." Let me know what you thought!


End file.
